


Forbidden cheery Gatorade

by Manyllines



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff, Gen, George is the mother hen of the group, George needs some vacation from the idiots but what else is knew, I wrote this with platonic relationships in mind, Is there really no tag for Bbh????, Sickfic, So many tags, They're all dumbasses but in this case Dream takes the prize, Vomiting, Withdrawal, bad is the sweetheart as always, because i have no beta just me editing this very...badly, biggest fic until know yey!, but if you wish to see this as romantic be my guest, first fandom work equals a sick fic, i think i added all of them..., it's not as bad as it seems, it's now tradition babey, no beta read we die like man, sapnap only appears at the end sadly, there is one scene where there is vomit and the rest is mentioned, this took me an entire month to write wth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27785662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manyllines/pseuds/Manyllines
Summary: Don't chug down potions like if they were juice, kids! It's not healthy and it'll make you sick!Dream now knows this very well.And George is the one that has to take care of him.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 113





	Forbidden cheery Gatorade

**Author's Note:**

> Hi welcome to my first fic in this fandom! I am quite nervous, to be honest, to be posting this fic. Getting in new fandoms and producing content for it can be oof nerve breaking. (I am so lost in the tags and summary i am looking at you)  
> Ok so hi! I'm Many, my titles normally don't make much sense but set the mood for my fics quite nicely, if i say so myself. I settle myself in both spectrums of extremly fluffy fics or downright tearing people's hearts with my baby hands :))))) so watch out.
> 
> This is the biggest fic i have written so far and a note i wrote to myself halfway through was:  
> 'This was supossed to be short' haha funny

“And this is why strength potions have a consumption limit!”

George heaves between breaths, looking over his shoulder and halfheartedly glaring at the deadweight he’s carrying on his back, who is slumped like a big and heavy sack of giant potatoes.

Dream for his part doesn’t have much to say -just grumbling something close to ‘shut up’- staying mostly quiet after falling face first on the floor and having George carry him all the way to their base. Oh George is so going to get him back for this.

“Did you think that chugging down 8 strength potions in a row would make it dure more?” he chastises his friend again, making sure he knows how much of an absolute idiot he actually was.

Because god was he an idiot.

Stopping his steps for a couple seconds he takes some deep breaths, willing his lungs to pull on some decent air before straightening Dream, who has been slowly slipping lower and lower, on his back. Getting a firm grip under Dream’s knees he does a little hop forward using the momentum to pull his friend upward.

“Fuuuuu-” Dream groans with the sudden jolt.

George feels him press his forehead harder against his shoulder and the grip on his bicep tightens. He stops and waits for the few controlled breaths his friend takes to calm down.

“Sorry” George mutters apologetically.

“‘t’s fine.”

‘It really isn’t,’ George scowls bitterly for himself. But what can he do, it’s not like he didn’t tell the idiot that that was a terrible idea. He told him multiple times, even.

He tries to start walking again, but suddenly Dream’s clutching his shoulder painfully hard again as his breathing starts getting labored once more.

“Dream, Dream, Dream. I swear to god don’t you dare throw up on me.” he hisses through his teeth, trying to find somewhere to lower his friend.

“‘M fine, ‘m fine” he tries to reassure with a pat on George’s shoulder.

Tries because that pat doesn’t reassure George at all, “Are you sure?” he asks seriously, and before Dream can open his mouth, he repeats, “Are you 100% sure?”

One, two, three deep breaths…

“Yes.”

‘Okay then’ he gripes to himself, back on track.

Looking back straight ahead, he sighs, just a couple more minutes and they’re back at the base, back in their rooms, back to where he can actually give Dream some help.

His back screams at him when he starts moving again and Jesus why the hell is Dream so fucking heavy, “I should’ve left your stuff behind.”

“No,” Dream mumbles.

George snorts, face breaking into a huge grin.

“What do you mean, no? This would’ve been 10 times faster if you didn’t carry so much shit with you!”

Dream pushes at his shoulder lightly, which makes George smile spread even wider.

“Sh’t up.”

“Idiot.”

***

Half an hour later, after multiple pauses so George could get his bearings -and two stops for Dream to dry retch whatever he still had in his stomach- they finally arrived at the base. Finally, finally they were home. Jesus, George is never going to do this again, ever.

Next time, he’ll shoot an arrow at the idiot as a warning for his stupidity.

After struggling with the door, for a good five minutes, he’s finally able to get inside, George lowers Dream as gently as he can onto his bed, he falls like a rock and stays still like one. Somewhere along the travel back, mostly after their second stop, Dream fell asleep and hasn’t woken up ever since.

Good, good.

‘Stay asleep.’ he prays silently to himself.

Before moving to do anything -like removing Dream’s boots, or get their packs out, or call Bad, or anything like that- George just stays standing besides his friend's bed, willing himself to take some deep breaths and let his back stop protesting. Because god the idiot was heavy.

Dream groans from where he’s curled up on the bed.

George sighs and then snorts. Okay then, back to work we go.

Every single bone he has on his body protests as he lowers himself to the floor, getting eye level with his friend. He’s going to be feeling this for weeks.

Careful as to not jostle Dream too much, George unties each of his boots, laying them gently on the floor right at the end of the bed. Okay that’s done.

Armour next.

Thankfully, the armour comes out relatively easy, with how much out of it Dream was, George couldn't really expect anything else from the other besides a couple groans and whines here and there.

The concern that has been slowly growing as they made their way back, increases. Rare were the times where he has seen Dream so out of it. And, trust him, he has seen him in almost every bad state ever imaginable.

Poison? Yes.

Blood loss? Yup.

Burns, broken bones, cuts? Yes, yeah and uh hu.

Delirious? Way too many times.

He has sadly even seen him with limbs almost hanging off his body. His fingers twitch as a shudder rips through his spine at the memory. That was certainly one of the worst times, ever.

He prefers not remembering that one.

George’s thoughts are cut off when Dream whines as he’s releasing the last strap of his chest plate, George frowns and brings his hand to gently touch Dream’s clammy forehead, his eyes widen and he hisses under his breath. He’s burning up. Great.

A fever was certainly what they needed right now.

Groaning, George gets up from where he was kneeling on the floor, before he tries stepping away from the bed to put away all their stuff and to get everything he needs. Key word tries, because before he’s even halfway up, Dream’s hand shoots up and grabs his wrist tightly.

George stares at his friend’s hand in confusion before another whine resonates through the room.

“Wha-”

Before he can even finish his sentence, Dream is doubling over and throwing up again, over the edge of the bed, splattering vomit all over the wooden floor, in a sickly pink-ish color. George wrinkles his nose in disgust.

Gross.

He looks back at Dream who’s pathetically panting while looking dazedly over the edge of the bed, body shivering, George sighs.

“Well, at least you waited until we got home.”

***

‘He stashed their things away, he put their armour away and he called Bad’ he counts with his fingers as he waits for the little wooden basin to fill with water. ‘That was all of it, right?’ he asks himself, staring at his fingers. He runs his hands through his hair messing it all up, wrecking his brain to think if he forgot anything.

No, nop, he’s done everything.

He sighs tiredly.

God, where is Sapnap when he needs him the most.

Bastard always leaves in the most inopportune times, and then George is the one that has to take care of all the mess.

….Can you only ground children?

As he stares at the water resting peacefully on the basin a funny thought hits him.

He’s literally the parent of this two giant, man childs…

His face breaks into a huge amused smile, a few giggles escape him the longer he looks at his reflection.

Lord, give him strength.

With a deep exhale he wipes his wet hands on his pants and gets up, lifting the water filled basin with his arms and cradling it against his chest. Basin in hands and washcloths over his shoulder he makes his way out of the little fountain they created besides their house and back inside the house.

Using his hip to open the backdoor he makes his way inside silently, avoiding making any unnecessary noise for the sake of his friend. As he makes his way over the bedroom he mindlessly looks around their home, looking at all the small messes and clutter they have lazily been putting out for later. He sighs. Later. After he’s sure Dream’s alright he’ll take care of everything.

Gently with his foot he pushes the door fully open so he can get inside with the basin. He scrunches his face in concentration, trying to not spill any water while passing through the honestly too small door, he cheers silently in victory when none falls out.

When he raises his head and looks back to the bed he’s surprised to find Dream awake.

Sprawled over the sheets like a sea star- taking up the entire bed- Dream blinks through half lidded eyes up to the ceiling, looking focused but at the same time completely out of it.

“Oh you’re awake,” George says while settling down on the floor of the water filled basin.

No answer.

He looks at his friend. Who’s still staring straight ahead.

As he’s halfway sitting down on the chair— he had put down earlier besides the bed— Dream finally speaks.

“There’s hands coming out of the ceiling.”

George stalls, mouth hanging out open. He looks at his friend, up at the empty, white ceiling and finally sits.

“Dream, what the fuck…”

First he thinks that he might be joking, pulling his leg— like he loves to do— but then he looks back at his friend. Looks at him and sees the furrowed brows, sees the underline of true fear behind his glassy eyes, the slight panting breaths, the sweat soaked hoodie and when he looks lower George sees his fists clutching the sheets in a vice like grip.

Not joking then.

He looks back at the still empty ceiling.

Delirium, fantastic.

“Dream—” George looks back at his friend, scooting closer in the chair— “there is nothing there,” he says softly.

Dream hums lowly an unconvinced noise, only to press deeper onto the mattress, trying to get away from whatever he was seeing.

George sighs, no use in trying to argue with that absolute bull head, it will lead nowhere.

Then an idea pops out.

“Here.” He gets up and moves to the door, disappearing behind it.

Dream looks after George and before he can open his mouth to call for him, he comes right back in… diamond sword in hand.

“Here, like this they can’t hurt you and if they do I try to do so I can always kill them—” Dream lips quirk into a small tired smile as his friend rambles on. He would also snort, if it didn’t mess up with his already messed up throat.

“Thanks”

George shuts up with that, huffs and then sits down.

“Aww, is Gogy blushing?” Dream teases with a lopsided smile.

George looks back at him deadpanned, arms crossed.

“Weren’t you dying two seconds ago?” Dream bursts out in giggles relaxing more and more into the bed.

Shaking his head with a smile, George bends and picks up one of the washcloths soaking with in water and wringing out the excess.

He hears the door of their home open. That should be Bad.

“George?”

“Over Dream’s room!” George calls over his shoulder, placing the washcloth on Dreams forehead.

Bad’s head pops into the room from the entryway.

“Hello muffins.”

“Hi Bad,” George greets, Dream just mumbles.

Bad enters fully in the room placing down the satchel— that was hanging on his shoulder— down gently as he stands besides the bed, staring down at his feverish friend. He presses his lips together in a thin line, worry worming up its way over his usual cheery face.

“Oh dear, you look terrible,” he says while kneeling down besides the bed.

George leans back against the chair, crossing his arms, “I guess that’s what happens when you chug down eight potions.” Bad snaps his head in his direction.

“EIGHT?!” he cries out. “Dream you muffin head!” Dream startles a little and looks at him stupidly.

“That could’ve KILLED you!” Bad exclaims, moving his hands all over the place indignantly, truly upset by his friend’s recklessness.

Dream just sighs. They watch as he slowly raises his shaky fist and—

“I was so strong,” he croaks out with his fucked up voice, sounding triumphant.

They look at him in disbelief, both groan exasperated.

“Oh my god—”

“Oh my goodness, _Dream_.”

“So strong,” he mutters again, fist still raised.

They look back at him, sigh in exasperation.

‘Idiot’.

Bad lowers Dreams hand back to the bed, patting it somewhat condescendingly, “I’m sure you were.”

George stays sitting half slouched in his chair, watching tiredly as Bad checks over Dream, making all the standard stuff they’re pretty much used to by now. Sometimes he hears Bad asking a question or two to Dream, who mercifully is coherent enough to answer them himself. He’s halfway into falling asleep right then and there when he feels someone shaking his knee gently. He sighs and sits up straighter, rubbing mindlessly his eyes before focusing back on his friend.

Bad just waits patiently, a gentle smile set back on his face.

If Bad is smiling then that means that the situation isn’t the worst.

“Well,” he starts, “sadly, I can’t do much right now, giving him any type of potion will just make things worse, so waiting and sleeping it off is the best option right now.” George hums.

“So he’s just sick?” Bad nods, looking back at the lump on the bed that is their friend.

“Withdrawal yes, It should pass in a couple days.”

Withdrawal, great.

Sigh, okay.

He can deal with that.

“I can deal with that,” he answers, getting up and stretching his legs. He offers a hand to Bad, who takes it gratefully.

“Ok then, if you do need my help don’t hesitate to call!” Bad calls over, waving excitedly over his shoulder on his way out.

A beat passes.

Back to just George, he guesses.

He turns back to his friend, hands on the hips.

Dream’s completely out, breathing deeply and calmly.

George smiles.

Dumbass.

***

So for the next couple of hours, his routine resumes around keeping Dream’s fever at bay, tidy the house, check on Dream again, tidy another room, make the stubborn bastard drink some water, write a list of supplies they’re missing, clean another round of vomit (he honestly got immune to them after the second one), make some soup for all of them, listen to Dream babbling feverishly about whatever he wants to talk about, and it goes on and on and on—

“George.” George startles from where he was leaning against his arm, drooling all over his hand. He looks down at Dream.

“M’what?”

“I feel like shit,” he whines, curling more from where he’s laying in bed.

“That’s what you get for chugging down potions as if they were juice,” he chastises, leaning forward and pressing his hand on Dream’s forehead. Still hot.

Damn persistent fever.

‘It takes after its owner’.

“God, you're so mean.” George huffs a laugh, bending down to wet the washcloth once more.

“God, you’re so stupid,” he says mockingly, imitating his friend’s tone.

Dream pouts.

George snickers.

“Aww, is wittle Dweamie pouting? Are you going to cwy?” he teases full heartedly. It feels good honestly, after so many hours of either talking with himself or just listening to a delirious Dream, it feels good to biker a bit. Neither of them take it to heart just like normally. It feels comfortable and normal.

He hopes Dream gets better soon.

“I’m going to dunk all your socks in water and make you wear them wet,” Dream says with all seriousness he can muster, which isn’t a lot. His face quickly crumbles into a smile, especially with the sight of George completely losing it.

“We should do that to Sapnap,” George says in between giggles.

Dream only hums back in answer, fighting sleep again, eyes struggling to stay open. George’s smile softens.

“Sleep, idiot” he whispers, patting his friend on the head.

“St’pid” Dream mumbles back, already on his way in falling asleep.

George snorts.

***

“Wassup bitches, I’m back!” Sapnap hollers from the entryway, soaked wet and dripping everywhere from the rain outside. He rolls his eyes when he hears a muttered, ‘language’ behind him, “and I brought Bad with me!”

He was so distracted in getting off his soaked clothes that only as he’s halfway pulling out his other boot does he notice that no one answered back. He looks up and around the room.

Empty.

Silence, he pouts.

Normally, at least one of the two idiots makes the effort to greet him when he gets home, either it being Dreams cheery hello or George’s grumbled hi. And even if it’s not directed at him, it’s directed at Bad.

There is always some type of greeting.

“Didn’t you say they were home?” he asks, rubbing a towel absently over his head, turning back to look at Bad.

Bad smiles and nods, “Maybe they’re sleeping?” he provides, gasping and quickly adding in a whisper, “If they’re sleeping we shouldn’t have screamed!” Sapnap snorts.

“They’re used to it.”

If Dream is sick there is no way George is sleeping.

George is like the Mother hen and all that. There is no way he’s sleeping.

“You said they were in Dream’s room right?” Sapnap asks, already making his way over, tugging at the towel that rest over his neck.

He hears Bad hum in agreement right behind him.

The house looks cleaner. Tidier than what they had left it this morning, he notices, all the things that were once scattered around have been put into their individual places, the floor looked cleaner and he could smell food all the way from the kitchen. He whistles lowly. George has been busy.

He feels a little guilty tho, for leaving it as messy as it had been and letting George clean it all while taking care of Dream. But only a little.

Most of it disappears when he grabs the handle of the door and— without knocking, (ha ha manners never heard of them)— opens it, peeking his head inside.

“Yo-” he interrupts himself with a snort, falling quiet. Bad pokes his head right besides him, letting a little, whispered ‘aww’ escape out of his mouth.

Sitting, more or less upright, against the backboard of the bed sleeps George, head cushioned on the wood of the board (which, he cringes because it looks really fucking uncomfortable), breathing deeply and calmly in and out, signature goggles resting on the nightstand. Hand resting right on top of Dream’s hair. Sapnap huffs a laugh. Dream is completely curled up against George’s side, arm thrown over his legs, buried under the comforter, face squished between the mattress and George’s thigh. ‘And then _he’s_ the clingy one,’ he thinks for himself.

Well at least they look comfortable.

“Simps,” he mutters under his breath with a smile, pouting and letting out a little ‘ow’ when Bad swats at his arm and pulls him out of the room.

He closes the door behind him.

He’s so not gonna let them live this one down. But he’ll wait until they’re awake for that.

**Author's Note:**

> End notes yey :D  
> I haven't written in like hmmm a while so i think this one came out a little more... rusty, maybe a little more jambled than normal, that also has to do with the size of it. BUT! i am very happy with how this turned out so yey!!!!   
> Please do tell me what you though of it! i love reading comments hehe
> 
> Guess that's all i have to say! Thank you for reading <3  
> (oh also i know like there is a tag for bbh but that's with like his name and i don't feel very comfortable using it, but if someone asks me to like put it or smth i will)  
> Oh i also have tumblris, same name as this account :)


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